Edward sat behind his desk, several documents spread neatly before him. The morning light entered through the tall windows of the office, casting soft lines across the polished wooden floor. The room carried the quiet weight of authority. Maps of the northern region hung along one wall, marked with ink that showed trade routes, mine outputs, and border patrol movements. A large weapon rack was mounted on the opposite wall, holding swords, spears, and several daggers arranged with precise order. The air smelled faintly of ink and metal.
Then a knock sounded at the door.
Edward did not look up immediately. "Enter."
The door opened, and Thaleia stepped inside. She closed it carefully behind her before walking forward and bowing. "My Lord Marquis, you summoned me."
Edward lifted his gaze toward her. His expression was calm, almost unreadable, yet there was a certain focus in his eyes that made it clear he had not called her here without purpose. He slowly stood from his chair and walked around the desk. Instead of answering right away, he moved toward the weapon rack mounted on the wall. His fingers brushed over the hilts as if he were choosing a book from a shelf.
"Five months have passed since I became the Marquis," he said in an even tone. "During that time, you have been of great help to me. For that, I thank you."
The words were simple, yet they carried weight.
Thaleia blinked in surprise. A faint blush rose to her cheeks before she quickly lowered her head again. "My Lord, you should not thank me for anything. I am only doing my duty as your secretary. It is my responsibility to support the head of the Vistro house."
She straightened slightly and allowed herself to look at him. "If anything, I am the one who should be grateful. I have learned more in these five months than in all my previous years serving under your father."
Edward’s hand rested lightly on the hilt of a dagger.
Thaleia hesitated for a brief moment before continuing. "Learning from someone who is only fifteen years old sounds strange when spoken aloud. Yet the way you speak, the way you carry yourself, and your cultivation alone place you beyond many in the human domain. Even seasoned nobles triple your age hesitate in negotiations where you remain calm. Your decisions are calculated, and your foresight often borders on frightening."
She let out a small breath, as if admitting something difficult. "I do not fully understand how you have changed so much in such a short time, but I cannot deny the results."
Edward’s fingers closed around a dagger.
The next moment happened too fast to properly register.
Without warning, Edward turned and flicked his wrist. The dagger left his hand in a blur, cutting through the air with a sharp whistle. It was precise and violent, aimed directly at Thaleia’s chest.
Her body reacted before her thoughts could catch up.
Her mana surged instinctively. She stepped to the side and raised her arm. The dagger met her palm with a loud metallic snap as she caught it by the handle. The force behind the throw was immense. It felt as if a hammer had struck her arm. The impact pushed her backward. One step. Two. Three. Four. Five. Her boots slid against the floor before she managed to stabilize herself.
Silence returned to the office.
The dagger trembled slightly in her grip, as Thaleia stared at it, then slowly lifted her gaze toward Edward. He had not moved from where he stood. His expression remained calm.
Her heart pounded in her ears.
’What just happened?’
Her thoughts began to race.
’That speed.... I was watching him. I saw his shoulder move, but the dagger was already halfway across the room before my mind processed the action. If I had hesitated even for a breath, it would have pierced my chest. Was that some kind of test?’
She tightened her grip around the dagger, feeling the lingering vibration from the throw.
Then, her breathing steadied gradually as she analyzed the situation.
’He thanked me. Then he tested me?’
’Was it to measure my reaction speed? Or to measure my loyalty?’
She replayed the moment in her mind.
’There was no killing intent in the throw. It was cold and precise, but not murderous. That means he trusted I would react. He assumed I was strong enough to handle it. If I had failed, what would that mean? That I am unworthy to stand beside him?’
She looked at him more carefully now.
’Five months... He began by noting the time that has passed. Does this have anything to do with the Atlantis Campaign? Does he plan on going?’
’If he goes to Atlantis, the risks will be unimaginable. The monsters there are beyond common understanding. Ancient sea beasts. Ruined civilizations filled with traps. Treasures guarded by creatures that have survived for centuries. Only those at Adept stage and above may enter, yet even among them, many do not return.’
’And he is only fifteen.’
’No, that thought is wrong. He may be fifteen in body, but in experience... he feels older than most Archmages I have met.’
Then, her gaze lifted to meet his again.
Despite the sudden attack, she did not feel anger or humiliation. What she felt instead was clarity. The dagger in her hand was not an insult, nor was it an act of intimidation. It was a deliberate message, sharp and unmistakable.
If she wished to continue standing beside him, she could not afford to remain complacent. Administrative skill and political awareness would no longer be enough in the days ahead. The world around them was shifting toward something violent and unforgiving, and only those with real strength would endure what was coming.
Edward finally moved.
He turned fully to face her. His eyes were steady, his expression calm as always, yet there was a deeper intensity behind his gaze now, something firm and unyielding that made it clear he had already stepped onto a path that would not allow retreat.
"In five days," he said, his voice low and controlled, "the Atlantis Campaign will begin."